


Road to Recovery

by Melissy123



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fred Weasley Lives, Gen, Hopeful(ish) Ending, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25925035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melissy123/pseuds/Melissy123
Summary: They're both alive, but recovery isn't always easy. Fred survived the war. George is still haunted by the battle and what he almost lost. At least his brother is there to comfort him.
Relationships: Fred Weasley & George Weasley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 62





	Road to Recovery

**Author's Note:**

> If I can have Fred live in every story I write, I bloody well will. It's been how many years now and I'm still in denial. I'll forever be in denial, that's why we rewrite the canon. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

George stared at his brother, at his steady breathing. His chest rose and fell with each breath, a constant reminder that _he was okay, he was alive_. 

It wasn't always enough.

When George closed his eyes he saw the chaos of the battle, he saw Percy sitting next to Fred, tears streaming down his cheeks. He had thought he was dead. For one long, horrible moment, George had thought half of his soul was dead. It took longer then he would have liked for Charlie's voice to come through: _'He's alive, George, he's alive, it's okay, breathe.'_ He still heard his voice, urging him to do just that when he panicked and was thrown back to the battle. 

Fred was alive, but barely. 

Percy had _barely_ gotten their brother to Madam Pomfrey in time, the school nurse had _barely_ managed to stem the bleeding, keep his heart pumping, his twin had _barely_ survived. 

Fred was in St. Mungo's for three weeks before he was allowed to be discharged. George didn't leave his side once, refusing to obey visiting hours, refusing to let their mother usher him from the hospital. Not even Fred could convince him, though he only tried once. He must have seen how desperate George was to be at his side, _how fucking scared he had been_. 

The battle was a blur to Fred, but to George he still saw it all in startling clarity. The smell of smoke and dust, the sounds of explosions and screams, _the sight of his brother dead on the ground, gone, no longer breathing-_

"It's okay George," said Fred, his voice soft as he ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm still here, I'm okay, just breathe."

He clenched his eyes closed, desperate to forget. He was supposed to be the one looking after Fred, letting him rest, letting him recover but it seemed to be the other way around. Guilt filled his body and he might have cared _if he could just bloody breathe._

Fred talked quietly in his ear, recalling some story of the time they had turned Mrs Norris bright green in their third year, how angry Filch had been. 

He had been angry, but it wasn't the first nor the last time. 

George tried to focus on the image of that stupid, green cat and not anything else. He wished this wasn't all as hard as it was. Fred was there, wasn't he? His twin was there quietly rocking him in his arms, his voice soft and soothing though he must have been exhausted. 

"Don't do that," said Fred, scoldingly. For a moment, he sounded remarkably like their mother. "I've been in bed for three weeks, I think I can look after my Georgie-poo when he needs me." 

George managed a watery chuckle, managed to push himself back enough to look at his brother properly. He looked a lot better than he did before _(so pale, so still, so-)_. He had his energy back now, his bones _(so many had been broken)_ felt as if they had healed completely, were no longer stiff and sore.

He was okay, he was alive, the war was over, it was time to get back to reality now. It was time to claw out of the nightmare they had been thrown into. 

(George was scared he would never get out, he would always feel suffocated by fear). 

Fred held his gaze, his eyes sad. He had been the one to tell their mother that George had to sleep in the same room as him, that he needed him by his side. He had been the one to tell their mother that it was imperative they push the beds together like they were nine years old and planning trouble again. But it wasn't Fred that needed this, it was George. 

It had always been George. 

He had needed the reassurance of seeing his twin, his other half, breathing and alive next to him. He had needed the comfort when he woke up from nightmares with his cheeks wet and his body heaving. He had needed this, he just hadn't wanted to admit it. 

But Fred knew, of course he did. He knew everything about him, as George knew everything about _him_.

A life without his twin in it, by his side, was not one that George could even begin to fathom. Thinking about it hurt so much that George felt light-headed. No, he couldn't be without Fred, that wasn't supposed to happen, that was never supposed to happen. They were twins, two halves, partners in crimes (and business). No, he couldn't lose Fred. He just couldn't. 

His chest felt tight again, and pain flickered across Fred's face. He knew it was because there was nothing he could do, because he felt helpless to George's struggle. 

"I'm sorry," he choked out. 

"None of that," said Fred, with more of a snap than he no doubt intended. "We'll be alright, we just need time. _You just need time, George,_ but it's going to be okay, I promise." 

"Freddie..." 

"I don't care how many times we do this, George. Honestly, I just want you to be okay too." 

George clenched his eyes closed, his heart constricting in his chest. 

Merlin, _he was supposed to already be happy_. His brother was okay, he was next to him, comforting him, trying to joke with him. He wasn't meant to feel like this...

But he did. 

He just couldn't stop seeing it, couldn't help being thrown back to that day. 

"It doesn't matter how long it takes, you don't need to rush it." Fred offered him a small smile. "We have all the time in the world." 

"You're not allowed to leave without me," said George, hoarsely. 

His brother's attempt at a smile faltered for a moment, but only for a moment. "I know," said Fred, softly. "I wouldn't dream of it." 

It wasn't the first time he had said it, and it wasn't the first time Fred had responded with those words. George let them wash over him nevertheless, let his heart resume a normal pace (if a little fast). He took a breath, and then another. That was all he had to do. Fred was there, waiting patiently, rubbing a soothing hand over his back. 

George knew he had to give it time, but Merlin he wished it would hurry up. He was tired of this, tired of being so broken. Fred smiled at him again, his eyes lighting up.

But it could have been worse. 

_Much, much worse._

He would be okay, one day, maybe. Even if he wasn't, at least Fred would be at his side. At least he had his brother, his family. 

George let his eyes slip closed, let himself fall into a hopefully dreamless sleep. His brother's hand clutched tightly in his own. 

It would be okay, everything would be okay. 

**Author's Note:**

> This author always gets very excited about kudos and comments, just saying. Xx


End file.
